I don't often link Donald Trump and poetry together in the same thought. But, like almost everything else abhorrent to intellect, Trump himself tweeted about it.
Sure, the tweet's a couple of years old, but if age was any hindrance to being noticed, Trump wouldn't be president in the first place.
Now, far be it from me to claim that my poetry skills even come close to The Don's deal-making wizardry. But if he did turn his tiny hands to doggerel instead of dog-whistling, it might look a little something like this:
I’m Trump and I like bigly deals.
I like the way the winning feels.
The other thing I like, for reals,
Is this tremendous poem.
I don’t like facts or Meals on Wheels
Or when the FBI reveals
What I refuse to show ‘em.
I like long, incoherent spiels
And watching Fox to get my feels
And trips to Florida for meals
Some people paint, some folks make meals,
Some sing or bang on glockenspiels,
But money-getting spins my wheels;
That’s how I get my kicks.